Page 75 of Just (Fake) Married
“A thoracic surgeon at Mt. Sinai in Seattle.”
“But you’re moving back to the Gulch, right?” She optimistically looked between me and Harmony. I had no answer for that, and fortunately Sandra kept talking. “I would love to talk to you about the clinic at some point. Just what we do here, what I think the community needs?”
“Sure. Of course,” I said. I hadn’t outright lied about moving back here, but itfeltlike lying and I didn’t like it.
“Tomorrow,” my extremely helpful wife chimed in. “He could meet you at the health clinic tomorrow?”
She had the good grace to wince. Like she knew she was stepping over a line, but the truth was, we had no idea where each other’s lines were drawn.
“Wonderful!” said another voice. This one I recognized. Mrs. McCormick, my fifth grade teacher, came muscling her way through the crowd. “And when you’re done visiting the clinic, you’ll be sure to attend the town meeting! Very important as we begin our preparations for the Feud Day Festival.”
“Mrs. McCormick!” I cried, with arms open, seeing the older woman for the first time in so many years. “My favorite teacher!”
“Ethan McGraw, my favorite student.” She gave me a quick, hard hug.
“Hey, I thought I was your favorite student,” Harmony said.
“You both are! That’s why I think the two of you make wonderful sense,” Mrs. McCormick said, squeezing both our hands. “I’ll see you tomorrow night at eight pm sharp. Don’t be late. I’m making cookies and they go fast.”
We had to make our way through a gauntlet of more well-wishers, but ultimately we were able to sit down across from one another in a booth.
“Well, you guys have caused quite a stir,” Amity said, coming over with menus. She practically threw mine at my face.
“Hey,” I said, catching the menu. “We’re trying to make it look like we all get along now.”
“I can’t spend a lifetime hating McGraws, only to now start liking McGraws,” Amity said. “My Calloway spirit will not allow it.”
“You liked Mac well enough,” I reminded her.
She sniffed, and lifted her chin. “That was temporary insanity.”
“Anyway!” Harmony said, her face full of forced cheerfulness. “We’re here for dinner.”
“What’s good here?” I asked, looking at the menu.
“Everything,” Amity said. “You think I serve shitty food?”
“No,” I said. “Not at all, I’m just asking what you like?”
“All of it. Or I wouldn’t serve it.”
“Just bring us two specials,” Harmony said, handing her menu back to Amity.
Amity looked me up and down like I was road kill or something worse. “I don’t know if he deserves the special,” she said, her hand on her hip.
“Amity, please,” Harmony pleaded. “Just bring him something you think he’ll like.”
“Fine,” Amity said, and spun away, her red ponytail swinging behind her.
“Forgive my sisters,” Harmony said, rolling out a napkin on her lap. “They just want to have my back, and their last memory of you was back in high school when I didn’t…think too highly of you.”
“Ah, it all comes back to the pantry punch,” I said.
“Except now you know I didn’t really punch you.”
Right. I’d kissed her instead. A kiss so profound she’d held a grudge for the entire school year. Damn, I wished I remembered that kiss now.
“Is that why you don’t want me to kiss you?” I asked her. “Does it bring up bad memories?”
